


What eyes don't see

by Rogercat



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Blindfolds, Cooking, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Healing, Love, Married Characters, Married Couple, Married Life, Married Sex, Sex, Valentine's Day Fluff, Valinor, loving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 10:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9718904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogercat/pseuds/Rogercat
Summary: A day can switch a lot in terms of moods, which Maeglin and Rûsa finds out...





	

In general, nothing had hinted to become a bad day that morning as Rûsa cooked breakfast. He allowed a Maeglin a change to sleep in since she had worked late into the night before.

“I should add some more berries, else it will not have much taste…” he thought after tasting the strawberry-flavored batter he was making. Pancakes were nice to eat either warm or cold, which was why he had chosen that dish for breakfast. Besides, it was fun to create different fillings for the pancakes as well. A small bark came from the window where a large white dog head had poked itself through.

“Good morning, Snowflake. We will head out for a ride later, Maeglin and I just need our breakfast first,” Rûsa promised as he gave his hunting dog a piece of meat. Snowflake licked him in response then trotted out to the garden.

 

Maeglin was used to sometimes getting woken up by Snowflake when she barked on something outside, and judging from the sound, it was a small flock of birds scared away.

“At least I got to sleep pretty long for being me…”

Sitting up in bed, she first braided her hair so it would be out of the way during the morning. Today was a work-free day for her and Rûsa had suggested a ride together. Now in the early autumn there was a lot of young birds ripe to hunt and eat, and it was only natural that not all the hatching chicks survived their first year.

 

“Good morning, love,” Rûsa greeted her before kissing her cheek as she sat down at the table. In return he got a tender touch at his arm since he was about to turn around to his place as well.

“If one were to think of your cooking in your first life, you have changed a lot,” Maeglin commented idly as they ate, licking off some cream from her lips. Rûsa blushed slightly at her movement.

“I admit that I was not a very good cook back then, but at least I could grill meat over an open fire without it being burned.”

Maeglin had never dared to ask what kind of meat it had been, sensing that it may be the only food Rûsa had been able to give her. As a slave it was to either eat what you were given or starve when someone else stole your rejected food. Besides, some things was better left unsaid. But it had explained a lot about Rûsa's habit of absolutely _refusing_ to allow someone take food from his plate, and why he sometimes could use his chopsticks to literally pinch the skin off of someone's hand if he thought his food was about to be stolen. It seemed childish to many - but for him, it was a way of survival, to ensure that his food was left alone and that he could eat in peace.

“Aye, and without that I think it would have been a lot more difficult for you how to learn actual cooking,” Rûsa answered nonchalantly. The memories no longer stung-and speaking of which…

He started telling her about the first time he had tried to bake bread for his family a couple of months after his rebirth, and how his so-called bread buns ended up as inedible black things because he misjudged their stay in an overheated oven, all while trying to surprise his still-sleeping grandparents. He had been extremely confused (and more than a little distressed) why the breads had not came out like the nicer ones he had seen the adults baking as a terrified Fëanor had hurried to prevent a fire from breaking out in the kitchen, smoke filling the airy kitchen.

Maeglin laughed.

“Oh Rûsa," she murmured. "You silly boy.”

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

 

The ride together was wonderful, and they even managed to shoot a couple of birds to have for dinner that evening. Snowflake even added her share by catching a goose. As Maeglin looked to her side, she saw how Rûsa's face was filled with pure, honest joy, laughing as they rode through a small pool of water. If one were to recall how stoic and emotionally withdrawn he had been back all those years ago -in the First Age, in Angband- it was impossible to believe that he was been the same person she had gotten to know.

“This will be perfect with potato, some vegetables and a nice gravy.”

Maeglin had to smile; Rûsa was already trying to figure out how to best use their kill as food for the next coming days. If she was lucky, she could look forward a small feast this evening and she started to plan how to reward him later in bed. They did not follow any plans about their sex life, but the past days she started to feel a growing desire for some activity together. Or maybe in front of the fireplace again; she could still recall that very pleasing evening they had a couple of weeks ago.

“I will not have my red rose time yet for the coming three years,” she thought. “We are always careful each time to ensure that I don't become pregnant before the planned time.”

After all, they had planned a special time period to try and get her pregnant with their first child, and why not have a marriage life without children at first and simply enjoy one another for a time?

 

As she was occupied with these thoughts, they were greeted by a messenger outside their garden.

“Lord Rûsa, there are some letters for you. I think they all are from the Painting Guild, if I am reading the right sigil.”

Rûsa smiled. It was hard to really see at times that it was meant to be a paint brush in the sigil.

“Thank you for bringing them.”

Maeglin took care of the horses, knowing that Rûsa wanted to read what the art critics thought of his paintings. He did commissions and paid art work to earn some extra income, but it was only now he had started to paint larger paintings meant to be viewed by everyone.

“Snowflake, please wait outside, I will come with something for you to play with soon.” she promised as she walked past the large dog, who was laying down at the gate. It was in moments like this that she proved to be a offspring of Huan, at least in nearly matching size.

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

 

When Maeglin entered the kitchen for one of Snowflake's play balls they had in a shelf there, Rûsa was already busy in cutting some onions. But there was a odd look in his black eyes; he seemed to be in shock, or hurt internally over something, however much he tried to hide it for his wife's sake. And he did not handle the food with the same great care as usual, the cutting of the onions uneven and moreover he had not peeled them properly.

“What was written in the letters?” Maeglin wondered to herself, wandering to the dinner table where the letters laid opened. Picking one up to read, her mood quickly changed into anger at seeing what it said:

 _This piece shows no talent_ , it read, _and it was made by someone lacking skills. It is also a wrong choice of colors, mixed with an horrible technique._ the letter then went on to deconstruct the rest of the subject with snide comments on how it could be improved or even replaced, all hidden beneath a flowery veneer of politeness.

Maeglin recalled the painting Rûsa had sent away for being judged by the art critics - a lovely portrait of his younger brother Yuë, from when he had won his first dance contest and held the golden star crown he had won as prize in his hands towards his chest. He even had managed to catch the hint of joyful tears in the green eyes of his mute, albino brother.

_This painting sucks so bad it fits only to decorate a lavatory... for the blind!_

Oh, she had a rather good guess who had written this review, one of the royal court enemies to the House of Fëanor who was well-known to bad-mouthing them in pretty much everything they did since their Rebirths. Rûsa was his favorite target for several reasons, claiming him to be a bastard-born, unnatural and uncivilized savage who had no rights to be a prince of the Noldor. By now, it had come out that Rûsa actually was a reborn elf, but few dared to openly protest Maedhros' words that he indeed was her firstborn son born from her own body, reborn or not.

Even so, the letter itself was so pathetic it was actually humorous to read rather than annoying.

_Cluck!_

“ ** _AGH!_ ** ”

The sudden yell in pain returned Maeglin to the present and she saw her taller husband now standing a bit away from the kitchen counter, holding a hand towards his tearing eyes. She hurried to see what had happened. A closer look revealed that he had gotten some onion juice in both eyes, which quickly were beginning to turn red.

“Let's go to Astarë and have her check on your eyes,” Maeglin said, taking him by the arm.

“I do not dare to use eye drops in case it becomes worse…”

 

Luckily, Astarë was at home and could check on her husband's nephew rather quickly. It was events like this that she was proud of her status as a healer; the Valar knew that her husband and son needed medicinal checks once in awhile thanks to the dangers of working in a forge.

“It has become a infection. I need to put soothing eye-drops and then put bandages over your eyes so you do not rub on them, Rûsa,” she said to him and Maeglin.

Much to his relief, Rûsa was allowed to lie down on the sofa so she had easier to aim right into the eyes. Naturally, he tried to not start crying when she put the eye-drops in his eyes, but it was a instinctive reaction. Astarë was used to that trouble, so she calmly awaited before adding it again until that Rûsa no longer cried. Once she was done, she asked:

“So, how are things otherwise? Gotten a chance to sell that painting you finished a few weeks ago?”

Rusa sighed, turning his head the other way, and Maeglin immediately sensed that something was off through their marriage bond. He looked beaten almost, and his shoulders were slumped. Astarë threw her a questioning glance, and Maeglin sat down, embracing her husband gently.

“Sweetheart, what is the matter? I saw what they had written, they have no idea how much time and care you spent on painting that painting of Yuë. Really, they have no right to destroy it the way they did.”

He could only nod, trying not to start crying again-whether from the pain or his frustration over those letters - or Astarë would need to redo her work again.

“I... I t-tried so h-hard to... not give people new reasons to speak b-badly about our family, and to g-get reviews like that…”

The two female Elves nodded in understanding. Like many other Reborn Elves who once had been slaves in Angband Rûsa was sensitive about his own skills, no matter how much he tried to hide it, and being looked down for something he had placed a lot of time on could make him feel depressed for a couple of days afterwards. To his credit, it was only apparent to those who knew him, and then only those closest.

“Give the letters to your grandfather and I am sure that he can come up with a fitting response for their unkind words,” Astarë said. “Now, you need some bandages over the eyes to protect them. I will also put some small herb bags on them to soothe any possible reaction around. I have some emptied and dried tea-bags that is just the right size.”

This was not the first time Rûsa had gotten some sort of eye infection over the years since his Rebirth, and Astarë hoped that he would only need the bandage for a few days. It was not unheard of for Reborn former slaves to get aggravating reactions on being blindfolded, so she had to be careful. Thankfully, there was no such reaction from Rûsa this time like before. His strength and maturity was impressive.

His mother would have been proud of him.

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

 

Once they got back home, Maeglin told Rûsa to rest and allow her to fix things today. With the bandage over his eyes, he could not see what he was doing and that would risk that he could hurt himself if trying to do.

“Better safe than sorry, you know.”

“Y-Yes,” he obeyed with a deep sigh, using his memory of the living room and hands to find the couch, and Snowflake imprisoned him for the next several minutes as she'd placed her big head in his lap, looking saddened by the injury her master had gotten. Her presence was soothing to him; if he had any violent reactions remaining, they would have been chased away by Snowflake.

“What a day this turned out to be, Snowflake… here it was such a great start to the day, and then… it changed so fast…”

Rûsa tried to not feel too sorry for himself - he had been having bad days before but being insulted for a painting he was especially fond of did hurt his pride as an artist. He just hoped that Yuë did not learn about the horrible reviews, for his mute half-brother was also sensitive to such words, even more so than his elder brother, given that he had been the model for the painting. As long as his younger brother was not hurting, then he too would not be simultaneously angry and sorrowful about it.

 

Maeglin had found the dinner recipe her husband had planned for the evening stew and firmly took over where he had stopped because of his mishap with the onions. She finished cutting them, then did the same with the peeled potato and vegetables, and laid the bird meat in a marinade to have it gain some more flavour. Even though Rûsa cooked the most for them she still knew something about preparing a meal; her father had been very insistent she learn back in Nan Elmoth.

“He will likely be depressed for the rest of the day now… let's see… yes, I have everything that can be made into one of my father's stews.”

She had many fond memories of the early autumn stews which the servants in Nan Elmoth had cooked for Eöl and his family - Eöl had insisted on teaching Aredhel the recipe once she revealed herself to be a skilled hunter; and Manwë forbid that those who're taught slacked off in its preparation. It was part of the small culture in Nan Elmoth to know the recipe of that bird stew from memory, tradition really - those who never learned were seen as not fully trained in how to fix their own food.

 

Soon enough, thanks to her careful attentions, an almost heavenly smell was wafting from the kitchen. It was a new one for Rûsa, who couldn't place it among the various food he had cooked or tasted over the years.

“Maeglin? What are you cooking?” he asked, getting to his feet carefully with some help from Snowflake and started moving. Even if he could not see it he had a strong feeling she was grinning at him. What a sight he must be, a giant of an Elf stumbling around half-blind like a babe!

“One of the dishes from Nan Elmoth. Felt that this was a good time to let you taste on what I could be given in my childhood - that open cabinet door is right before your face, honey,” she warned just in time with a glare over her shoulder before he walked into it. Rûsa carefully stepped back so he could close the cabinet door.

“I am getting hungry just from the smell.” Snowflake barked in agreement with his words.

Maeglin smiled. Typical, but then Rûsa had a good reason for that; as a slave he had been used to perpetual starvation, and it was only natural that he did not want to have those hollow feelings of hunger again in his new life here in Valinor, no matter how small they were.

“I have already set the table, feel welcome to sit down as it soon is finished.”

Even if Rûsa felt a bit nervous about not being able to cook dinner as he had planned he did have some pride in being a good man of the house, and he greatly enjoyed the bird stew Maeglin served. Knowing his appetite, she had made a lot of it so he could be able to see what it was made of another day when he had the bandages removed.

“I am honestly surprised over that you have not cooked this stew earlier,” he commented.

“Well-guarded secret recipe only known to those who once lived in Nan Elmoth. Still had to request my Ada's permission to cook it in order to not have the recipe stolen.”

Recalling how his law-father Eöl could be in his angry moments, Rûsa understood why she had not tried it before. He respected that the traditions of Nan Elmoth were not meant to be shared freely, even to someone who had married the daughter of their former Lord.

“No surprise there, love.”

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

 

Later that evening Maeglin built a fire. Placing several blankets and pillows together in a half-circle around a fur rug with a bowl of sliced strawberries, she created a comfortable nest for them both.

“Come here,” she smiled while guiding her husband to the fireplace by holding both of his hands in her own. Just for the fun, Maeglin made them spin around in a circle before stopping so he could feel the heat from the fire.

“Even if you are unable to see for the moment, let's use your other senses a little.”

Rûsa smiled faintly, as she helped him sit down with crossed legs. He did not mind that she helped him with holding a small glass of low-alcohol wine, it was a rather high risk that he could drop it for not seeing.

“I am going to send a response to that bad review. If they think they can stop me from painting just by words, then they forgot whose grandson I happen to be by my mother.”

Maeglin smirked. It was in moments like this that some of his old past as the Warg Rider was harmlessly hinted - to those who never knew him, it seemed he gained an unusual resilience and power that abated not until whatever he wanted accomplished was done. He hated to be belittled no matter what was slung at him. As a slave, he had often been forced to humiliate himself to the Dark Lords in order to survive for another day, and now when he knew himself to actually be of royal blood, he had gained a careful amount of pride.

“Aye, and your whole family is gonna drown him in angry letters about insulting your skills as a painter. You are outstanding in making the painting almost come alive.”

It was true - everyone in the House of Fëanor was protective of Rûsa in different ways because of his past and the collective might and authority of the Valar help anyone who dared to talk badly about him to either their face or within earshot.

 

Kissing Rûsa's face lightly, Maeglin removed his bathrobe from him. She had helped Rûsa wash off quickly earlier, after they'd eaten the supper she had prepared, so they were a little damp underneath.

“Please lay down down. I will give you a shoulder massage because you are tense.”

Obeying, Rûsa let out a deep breath as she started to work on his shoulders. Even with the warm bath he felt he had not really relaxed as much he should have. Maeglin had strong hands, and she knew where to gently rub him without triggering a bad memory. Despite the long passage of time, and healing, Rûsa still had latent fears from whippings during his first life.

An unexpected hug from behind could result in getting elbowed hard in the ribs, no matter how well-intentioned, and the hugger could also end up with a broken nose from Rûsa's thrashing. Given his size, and strength, it was no laughing matter.

“Mmmm…”

Rûsa slowly relaxed more, even blushing a little when Maeglin kissed his shoulder while her long hair fell freely over his back.

“With the right lighting, one could almost imagine you have freckles.”

“Not all redheads have it… ah!” Rûsa gasped when Maeglin bent down to kiss him just below his Adam's apple, knowing that it was a major stimulation spot for males. Giggling softly in response to his flushed face while moving a hand along his side, she silently requested him to move over a bit. He got the answer when he felt something towards his lips and parted them a bit, earning a sliced strawberry.

As Rûsa swallowed the strawberry piece, he felt Maeglin start working on massaging his feet. The touch caused him to flush more intensely as she moved her hands upwards, and given some of his own insecurity about actually deserving pleasure, it was no wonder that he was passive in lovemaking. Maeglin nearly always had to take initiative, at least until he had relaxed enough.

“Ah!”

The feeling of Maeglin's careful hands being replaced by her warm mouth as she kissed her way upwards reminded him about how much he would try and give her pleasure before focusing on his own. And her hair slowly moved across his body as she moved around her head, bringing up inner heat to Rûsa while his sense of touch was teased. The air held the smell of fresh wood burning, alongside something that smelled faintly like lemon. Had she been using lemons in the cooking earlier? He could hear his own gasps for breath, and the raising beat of his own heart. Maeglin knew how to turn him on - she had learnt a lot under the years they had been a married couple.

“M-Maeglin…!”

Rûsa was clutching the fur rug under him with his hands, trying to keep control over himself as she now kissed him on the groin. As Rûsa couldn't see because of the bandage, every touch felt so much more powerful, and she kept planting light butterfly kisses everywhere on his sensitive skin except where he most ached for her attention.

Maeglin kept teasing him, kept kissing and licking while holding him down and he was gradually realizing that this would be a long journey instead of a short trip. He just wondered if he would have the strength to endure for he felt like he was about to explode any moment now. It was some time since their last lovemaking and since they did not have a pattern for when they would do it, both could be sensitive to when they touched each other.

“Pl… Please…!” he whispered in a breath, feeling as if he was going mad with need for his wife.

Maeglin just snickered to herself; Rûsa couldn't see her but he could feel her mood through their bond, she was really enjoying this and he had no idea of what she might do next. For a moment she let go of him and she seemed to reach out for something, then he felt her kiss him again, and he whimpered as she let her teeth nip every so gently at his skin. The next thing he did notice was that something incredibly soft was being dragged along his aching length, from the base to the head and he had no idea what it could be for it was not her tongue. Maeglin chuckled, who could have known how sensitive, even pleading in honest desperation, Rûsa could be with the right amount of touch and teasing?

“One of your best brushes, my love.”

If anything, he blushed even harder now, to the point that his reddened cheeks could have matched his dark red hair. It was true that they once had tested something similar once, and both had enjoyed the unusual feeling.

 

The tickling sensation made him groan, his muscles trembled and yet it wasn't enough to bring him over the edge, just up to it. She knew exactly where she had him. Small caresses and kisses added to the tension and now she kissed him right _there_ , very gently and with no pressure, the sensation making him arch up against her, begging without words. He was sweating, his heart beating like a drum - what would she do next? Not being able to see meant that he had to use all his other senses and he thought he heard the sound of a cork being popped.

Then suddenly cool liquid was poured over him and he let out a loud yelp. It felt very cold but it didn't make his arousal retreat at all, merely fueled it. It had to be some sort of flavored oil, he could smell strawberries. By now his legs were trembling and he felt so sensitive. Rûsa was sure he would explode but he didn't. Somehow he was too aroused, too eager, and when he felt her starting to slowly lick the fluid off him he could only throw his head back and try to remember how to breathe.

It felt like nothing he had ever experienced before, the contrast between the cool liquid and the warmth of her tongue almost drove him insane. He had no idea for how long she kept licking and pouring, sometimes taking him into her mouth to suck - it could be mere minutes or it could be hours, time had stopped making any sense at all, he was reduced to feeling now, raw and uncontrolled need that felt like lava in his blood. Before long he was so consumed by his own need he was whimpering.

“Beloved, please, I cannot… I cannot bare it anymore, I need…”

Maeglin sniggered, caressing him with her hand, letting it slide gently up his inner thigh, caressing his balls before giving his length a careful tug. He hissed and groaned.

“Who would have guessed that you can be this emotional, beloved? You seemed to be made from stone back in Angband.”

She knew that he had been so emotionally withdrawn in order to survive as a slave in that hell, recalling his stoic behaviour and seeing him like this, made it unbelievable that it actually was the same person in front of her. Rebirth, and getting a real free life, had done wonders for him in terms of opening his heart and showing his feelings. Rûsa was no weakling, but he saw it that being honest with his feelings was better in the long run for everyone close to him, be it friends or family members. Harboring emotions without an outlet would harm him and this new approach was so much healthier. Rusa was gasping and pressing himself against her, begging without words and Maeglin decided that she had teased him long enough. He deserved a reward for his patience and she too wanted some attention. She pulled herself up, straddled his hips and took his hands, placed them on her breasts as she lowered herself down onto him.

Without the bandage over his eyes, Maeglin would have seen Rûsa widen his black eyes at feeling where his hands were, and at the feeling of her mounting him. It was a favorite position for them, mainly because Rûsa secretly feared of hurting Maeglin by mistake if he took the dominant role, but also because Maeglin wanted to let him feel safe. Being a former slave had left deeply in-rooted habits of obeying orders to stay alive and not even Rebirth had fully managed to remove that part of his personality. But the bodily emotion soon overwhelmed him. Maeglin opened up to him through their bond and allowed him to feel also her joy and she started to move, in a slow steady rhythm which took him to the edge but didn't bring him over it. He kept one hand on her breast, but the other reached down and cupped her bottom, giving her some support.

Maeglin gasped and closed her eyes, her own pleasure flooding her body and she knew that she couldn't keep the game going much longer, she pulled his upper body up against her own and embraced him, still moving and now he was able to move as well. The lack of sight did make the sensations so much more intense and he was gasping her name, she felt him tensing up like a taut bowstring and she clenched around him on pure instinct. That sensation did it, all semblance of control flew out of the window and Rûsa threw his head back, howling her name as the long longed for climax claimed him with body and soul. Maeglin whimpered, then she followed him, riding out the same waves as him, feeling how their _fëar_ mingled yet again and sought strength and peace from each other.

“I think you needed that, love…” Maeglin said in a faint voice, watching Rûsa slowly regain his breath. Searching for her face with his left hand, he barely had the strength left to nod in agreement.

“Yes…”

It was a long time since a lovemaking between them had left him so exhausted, but Rûsa did not mind. He knew that it was a good kind of getting worn out, and loved when Maeglin tried so hard for his sake. He planned to repay her somewhere in the next following days once he could be free from the bandage. Maeglin gave him some kisses on his ear, silently making him smile. Using the last of his remaining strength before sleep took him, Rûsa gently pulled Maeglin to his chest with one arm, hugging her close.

“Snowflake is gonna wonder why the living room smells in an unusual way tomorrow…”

“Silly, she knows how we both smell after this kind of hugging.”

But Rûsa had already fallen asleep, his steady breathing against her hair revealing it. Shaking fondly on her head, Maeglin kissed his jaw one last time before falling asleep as well.

 

~X~X~X~X~X~X~

 

A few days later, Astarë removed the bandage from his eyes and told Rûsa that his eyes were now free from the infection.

“Perfect timing, aunt,” he answered gratefully. “Especially as I plan to repay Maeglin for something sweet she did to cheer up my mood the other day.”

He smiled satisfiedly - but Astarë was used to such hints of love between a married couple, being a wife herself.

“Sounds nice. I think there is a set of freshly caught salmon on the market. I really need to make your uncle eat more fish once in awhile…”

But Rûsa was already on the way out, mentally checking the list of food he needed to buy in order to make the dinner tonight.

 

Later that evening, Maeglin was in a very good mood, especially as it had been a good day at the forge today for her. She had finished several works which would be sent to the buyers over the next following days, and had even found time to make a simple hairpin for Rûsa in silver. While he did not care much for fashion, he did enjoy practical gifts that could help him in his daily tasks at home.

“It is wonderful that he no longer needs the bandage over his eyes, and I have missed some of his cooking…”

Maeglin could cook well, but they were both in the agreement that Rûsa was better at housekeeping than she was, and that he took joy in the simple things of life and was content to let her have the active things. Still, Maeglin was glad that Rûsa had not gotten terribly hurt by the onion juice in his eyes. That would not have been good on top of his issues with self-confidence, like the bad reviews however minor they were.

“Anyway, he clearly is in a much better mood now,” she mused.

When she opened the front door Maeglin was met with the smell from one of her favorite salmon dishes. Already feeling her mouth starting to water, Maeglin gave Snowflake a hurried pat on her head before entering the dining room where her husband was waiting for her.

“Welcome back home, Maeglin.”

Something about his partly unbraided hair gave Maeglin a hint to eventual plans after dinner, making her grin in agreement. The early night was going to be fun spent together in their bedchamber.

Perhaps they might have a child from this. In that case, she wouldn't mind at all.


End file.
